


White Chocolate Magnums.

by OldEnoughToKnowBetter



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: #solittleplotitcreatesaplotvacuumintheuniverse, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Ice Cream, M/M, Mention of fisting, PWP, Voyeurism, squirting on command
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1966662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldEnoughToKnowBetter/pseuds/OldEnoughToKnowBetter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I can't believe I wrote this. At least the dog isn't anywhere around. He's probably at Shaw's place. I can't believe I'm reading another fandom's fic. Why these goddamn writers got to be so talented. This piece of plotless porn was inspired by astolat's "Intermediary".</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Chocolate Magnums.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Intermediary](https://archiveofourown.org/works/998259) by [astolat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astolat/pseuds/astolat). 



Reese catches them on purpose, of course. If you have a Black Ops skillset, you understand the difference between entering a room and sneaking. He manifests in the doorway and doesn't even stir the air with his breath, at first. Shaw is sprawled on her belly on Harold's desk, buck naked except for her regulation black socks, legs hanging down to the floor. Harold is sitting in his desk chair between her thighs, with one hand on her rather muscular ass. Reese wonders what exactly Shaw does for exercise. Well, other than this. He notices she has a collection of pink welts on her butt, and automatically seeks the implement, then realizes they're from Harold's hand. Harold's hands move, and Reese watches as Harold slips two fingers into Shaw's open, wet, tiny pussy and goes for her clit with his thumb. She makes a muffled sound, and Reese sees that she's got an ice cream bar in her hand, sucking on it with her cheek flat against the desk and a little puddle of melted ice cream collecting on the surface below her mouth. She's enjoying one of the white chocolate Magnum bars Harold keeps in the library fridge; apparently ice cream is only one of the pleasures Harold shares with his smallest, fiercest team member.

She scans Reese in the doorway out of the corner of her eye, and winks slowly and luridly. Then Harold starts seriously working her g-spot, and her eyes roll up and she drops her ice cream bar. The sliver of Harold's profile Reese can see looks serious and focused, with a tiny little smile. Harold uses his knees to push Shaw's dangling legs further apart and rolls his chair in a little closer, so his face is just inches from Shaw's ass, and blows a little cool air on her reddened cheeks. She moans and squirms and rocks her hips up, trying to rub harder against Harold's thumb. Harold has this down to a science, though, and he's switching it up, pulling his shiny wet fingers out to run them along her outer labia, then along her clitoral shaft. 

Reese shifts his balance silently, adjusting his trousers. He watches Harold slip his fingers back in and fuck Shaw with them, precisely and firmly. Her legs are paddling and shaking; she's so small her black-socked feet just graze the floor as she struggles to get off and Harold holds her on the brink. She doesn't beg, she threatens. "I will kill you in your sleep, I will kill you in your pajamas, I will kill you with one hand, I will break...your arm...and your...other...arm - -" Harold ignores her and uses one hand to deftly unbutton his trousers. She hears the rustle of fabric and starts yelling, "That's right, goddammit Finch, you're gonna fuck me, you're gonna fuck me right now or I'll break your nose!" "Now, Miss Shaw, there's no need for vulgarity," Harold says primly. "Patience is a virtue, as well as an asset in your profession, I believe?"

Harold stands up with his fly open and Reese can see his penis, which is of a normal size with a noticeably large head. Reese is shocked to realize Harold is uncircumcised, surely an anomaly for a person of his birth - another mystery of Harold's mysterious life. Harold appears contained and steady as he puts one hand on Shaw's back and readies himself to enter her, but Reese can see a telltale struggle for control in Harold's shallow breathing. Shaw's pussy is soaked and her lips are swollen and red; Reese admires Harold for being able to resist her demands this long. She's gripping the edge of the desk with her hands; Reese can see her tattoo flash as she grabs on. He watches Harold push himself in, Shaw thrashing under him and swearing in several languages. Harold puts his thumbs in the rather beautiful dimples over Shaw's sacroiliac joints and presses down, cants his hips (surely that must hurt him a bit?) and thrusts, slow and even. Shaw mews and snaps her teeth. Finally, she begs. "Please can I fucking come, please, please, I won't kill you if you just let me come - " and "Dammit, Finch, dammit!" 

"Miss Shaw, I'd like you to ejaculate now." Harold says, and gives it to her hard. Reese sees her clench her teeth and sees the color rise in Harold's cheeks; no doubt Shaw is as muscular inside as out, and those spasms must be something. As Harold pulls back and pushes in again Reese sees fluid gush out around him, and sonofabitch, Harold has got Shaw squirting on command. 

Reese has only been with one woman who could squirt. She was a six foot three party girl in a nightclub made out of an airplane fuselage, just a couple years after the Wall came down. He was on his way to Kuwait, so when she brusquely instructed him to put his fist in her pussy and his dick in her ass, he figured he might as well. His usual mode of pleasuring women relies on a combination of sustained oral worship and physical stamina, and he's never had any complaints, but he's not a precision instrument like Harold. He's particularly impressed that Shaw has now shut up, not even muttering imprecations. Harold waits until her hips have stilled and her fingers have unclenched, his hands resting gently on her back, before he permits himself release. Reese sees the fine cambric of Harold's shirt darken a bit with sweat as Harold comes, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. Shaw gives him a minute, then says, "Nice one, Finch. I'm keeping this one on speed dial in the spank bank for my next stakeout." Reese hears Harold actually laugh. Shaw's eyes open sleepily, and before her avian gaze can snare him, Reese slips off down the hall to the bathrooms. Reese has spent hours in a ditch while a camel spider crawled all over his body without flinching, but it takes all his willpower to make it to a bathroom stall before he slides his hand down his pants. He brings himself off in two quick pulls, silently mouthing Harold's name.

When he returns to the main room a few minutes later, deliberately audible, both Shaw and Harold are dressed and composed. Shaw is slung across a chair eating a new ice cream bar, and the flush of her tan skin at her chest and throat is the only sign of her recent adventures. When she sees him she hops up and grabs her pea coat off the coat tree. "Gotta jet, boys- gonna clock some rack time before the next disaster." She favors Reese with a telling glance, and as she passes him she whispers, "Besides, at his age there won't be any more action for a couple of hours." Then she tromps off. 

Harold looks up at Reese and raises his eyebrow. "Miss Shaw says our...activities...had a rather, erm, avid observer. Do you have a justification to offer for this invasion of privacy, Mr. Reese? Perhaps you were concerned for our...safety?" "I tried to leave, Finch - but I was mesmerized by your technique." "Ah, well, Mr. Reese. I do spend all day on the internet, you know."


End file.
